<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Calming by hypnoshatesme</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971279">Calming</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme'>hypnoshatesme</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Hair Dyeing, M/M, pure fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:42:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971279</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypnoshatesme/pseuds/hypnoshatesme</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Michael needed a dye job for a change?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Calming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Michael looked nervous. Which, in itself, wasn’t uncommon. Gerry was used to it, by now, but he also had become good at telling the usual constant-anxiety kind of nervous expression from the something-is-actively-freaking-me-out-right-now nervous expression and Michael was definitely giving him latter right now. They were in Gerry’s bathroom, Michael sat in a chair in front of the low mirror, that he couldn’t actually see himself when standing up, towel around his shoulders as Gerry prepared the dye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had been a revelation when Michael had confessed his hair was, actually, a slightly lighter shade of blond. Gerry had simply thought that the light hit it funny in the couple instances he thought he caught glimpses of lighter hair. But once, Michael off-handedly remarked he needed to get some dye, and, upon Gerry’s confused glance, blushed and stuttered out something along the lines of ‘I just like it slightly darker’. Gerry had shrugged and offered his help with the dyeing, since Michael helped with his and it just felt like a natural thing to do the same for him. Michael had looked less than thrilled after the first shock at the offer faded, making Gerry raise an eyebrow in question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah it’s just...I don’t know, I usually just do it myself? I don’t...you don’t need to inconvenience yourself.”, he wasn’t looking at Gerry, hands twisting nervously in his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, it was just an offer, if you’d rather not, it’s fine. But you inconvenience yourself with dyeing my hair rather frequently so I thought it’d be...nice? to return the favour.”, Gerry tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael looked at him, a little wide-eyed, “Oh you don’t need to! I...I like dyeing your hair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, maybe I’d like dyeing yours.”, Gerry countered, and Michael’s face blushed a pretty red as he bit his lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“W-Well, uh, I...I guess if you really want to? I…”, he sighed, “I should probably warn you, though, it’s...not much fun. I’ve had people help before and, uh...they kinda get stuck in the curls and stress out and...ah, they don’t like my whining.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, so it wasn't just about being an inconvenience. Gerry knit his brows, “Well, if they don’t like your whining maybe they should be fucking careful, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s...it’s not so easy with my hair.”, Michael sighed, brushing a curl behing his ear that popped right back to where it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerry scoffed, “They don’t sound like they were making much of an effort.”, he thought for a moment, “I mean, if you feel like I’m hurting you we can just stop? But if you don’t mind I’d like to try and see if it’s really that hard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael looked equal amounts of confused and curious, “W-Why…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerry shrugged, “It feels nice when you touch my hair.", he managed to keep the blush he felt creeping into his face down, but his voice still sounded a little flustered as he continued, "Would be a shame if you, uh, were missing out on something that might be nice to you, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“O-Oh...uh, okay, then...I guess.”, Michael mumbled, clearly surprised.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think about it, if you want. But if you want help...well, you have my number. Just text me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael nodded slowly, giving Gerry a small smile. Gerry smiled back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had taken two weeks, but Michael had decided to let Gerry try his hand in the end. Gerry wasn’t particularly good at dyeing his own hair, but he had watched Michael dye it plenty of times by now to know how to approach this best. Well, at least in theory. If he fucked up, well, the difference in colour was actually hard to tell if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In theory Michael could instruct him if he felt like Gerry wasn’t doing a good job. Though, knowing Michael, he’d consider that rude and rather accept dealing with a bad dye job than speaking up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready?”, Gerry said, catching Michael’s worried eyes in the mirror as he screwed the cap off the bottle of dye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael’s eyes went a little bigger for a moment, alarmed, but he nodded, slowly. Gerry gave him a reassuring smile as he stepped closer and started to apply the dye. Michael looked like he was regretting life decisions for the first couple minutes, tensing up every time Gerry brought his fingers to his hair to spread the dye out. He tensed up even more, hands clutching in his arms as if readying himself for pain, when Gerry started to properly go in with his gloved fingers, careful to get through the layers of hair so the strands would be evenly covered. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>much</span>
  </em>
  <span> easier to judge that when you could fucking see what you were doing, who would’ve thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was careful not to pull, remembering how Michael always did everything to avoid Gerry's hair during the dyeing process and simply copying some of his strategies. Despite not having much patience to do this on himself, Gerry kept his movements slow, so he would notice if one of his fingers did get caught on on some tangled hair. It did happen, sometimes, but instead of trying to force his finger through that spot, Gerry carefully detangled it first, gently pushing down on the roots with his other hand so it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Especially during such instances Gerry sought Michael’s eyes in the mirror, asking him - sometimes out loud - if this was okay, if it was hurting. Michael mumbled that it was fine, and Gerry couldn’t quite tell if he was just saying it to not be rude or if he was telling the truth, because his face was still all tense. But Gerry continued, paying close attention to any twitch that might indicate pain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Michael started to relax, very slowly, and often only until Gerry got caught in the next tangle. However, as Gerry continued to manage those with minimal to no pain, Michael’s shoulders started relaxing nearly instantly again. He allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of fingers in his hair, then, instead of being highly alert, bracing himself for pain. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel nice. Michael wasn’t surprised, of course, he had always liked people touching his hair. He simply also dreaded it because it rarely went well, making him try to avoid such situations if he could. Which didn’t make him miss it any less.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerry was probably taking more care than necessary, to be honest, and Michael was feeling sorry for him because he knew Gerry had no patience for dyeing hair and was probably horribly bored or annoyed by this point. When Michael couldn’t take the guilt anymore, he opened his eyes to tell Gerry that he didn’t need to be this careful, that Michael could deal with a bit of pulling, but when Michael saw Gerry’s face in the mirror the words died on his lips. Gerry looked serene, relaxed, the way he rarely ever did unless he was drawing for a while. Michael watched, in awe, because this was not what he had expected seeing on that face at all. He bit down any comment, not wanting to pull Gerry out of it, and leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering close again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By some point, Michael found himself dreading the moment Gerry was done and the sensation of his fingers carefully running over Michael’s hair would stop, rather than the possible pain of getting his hair pulled out. He let out a content sigh, making Gerry smile at the mirror in response.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, did it turn out okay?”, Gerry asked as Michael walked into the living room after having washed his hair. It was still wet, but Gerry knew Michael had dried it off as far as possible since it wasn’t dripping anymore. Michael’s hair was apparently as impossible to dry as it was to dye. Though Gerry did hope he managed to proof one of those as wrong, at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael had clearly enjoyed the whole experience, which had been the point Gerry had wanted to make, of course, but now he was a little anxious about the dyeing maybe not having come out to Michael’s liking. Not that Michael would say something about that if it did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It looked fine, as far as I can tell. Have to wait until it’s dry.”, Michael answered with a smile, and he looked so very relaxed as he sat down next to Gerry and accepted the mug pushed into his hands, that it made Gerry care a little less about the quality of the dye job. He couldn’t remember seeing Michael’s shoulders with this little tension before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned, “So you’ll tell me tomorrow, then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael nodded, taking a tentative sip from his mug. He sighed, face the very definition of bliss, as he smiled at Gerry, “Thank you, by the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should probably wait until you can tell if you need to redye it immediately.”, Gerry chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael hummed, “No, I...one way or another, it felt...heavenly.”, his smile was bashful as he continued, “So even if it didn’t turn out good, thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gerry felt the heat rise into his cheeks at that, hiding behind his hair as he looked down at his own mug, “I, uh...you're welcome. I’m...glad you enjoyed it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me too”, Michael gently tucked the hair hiding Gerry’s face behind Gerry’s ear, leaning forward to press a small kiss against Gerry’s pink cheek, making the blush deepen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Michael chuckled at that, before sitting back again, warm mug of tea in both hands, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the moment. Gerry let out a small sigh before he let himself lean into Michael’s side.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I got my hair dyed today and remembered how much I enjoy that, except I really don't because people act like my hair might amputate their hands if they don't instantly pull them out forcefully the moment one of my curls decides to hug their fingers. </p>
<p>I took that unpleasant experience and made something nice, which was hopefully somewhat enjoyable!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>